Stairway to Heaven
by Ryla Dante
Summary: After waking up in the hospital, Sam Maxwell is told he was the only survivor of a plane crash. Then he meets Dean, and they fall in love, but there is this lingering sense of Deja Vu. Are things as they seem? AU,slash,nonrelated,rated M for content
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Okay, this story is major AU. It is also slash/non-related, meaning the boys are not related. Not as fun, it still works. I have no idea where the idea for this story came from. Just sitting here one night, when bam, there it was. I hope that you enjoy it. Oh, by the way, the title for the story is by Led Zeppelin. I also used the song as you can see. I think it fit rather well. **_Zeppelin Rules _**

Disclaimer: I own the entire story, I just stole the boys for the time being...Don't worry CW, they will be back for the last show taping, in a least one piece. ;)

_**Stairway to Heaven - Led Zeppelin**_

"_**There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold  
And she's buying a stairway to heaven  
When she gets there she knows, if the stores are all closed  
With a word she can get what she came for  
Ooh, ooh, and she's buying a stairway to heaven**_

_**There's a sign on the wall but she wants to be sure  
'Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings  
In a tree by the brook, there's a songbird who sings  
Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven  
Ooh, it makes me wonder  
Ooh, it makes me wonder**_

_**There's a feeling I get when I look to the west  
And my spirit is crying for leaving  
In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees  
And the voices of those who stand looking  
Ooh, it makes me wonder  
Ooh, it really makes me wonder**_

_**And it's whispered that soon if we all call the tune  
Then the piper will lead us to reason  
And a new day will dawn for those who stand long  
And the forest will echo with laughter  
**_

_**If there's a bustle in your hedgerow, don't be alarmed now,  
It's just a spring clean for the May Queen  
Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run  
There's still time to change the road you're on  
And it makes me wonder**_

_**Your head is humming and it won't go, in case you don't know  
The piper's calling you to join him  
Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow, and did you know  
Your stairway lies on the whispering wind**_

_**And as we wind on down the road  
Our shadows taller than our soul  
There walks a lady we all know  
Who shines white light and wants to show  
How everything still turns to gold  
And if you listen very hard  
The tune will come to you at last  
When all is one and one is all  
To be a rock and not to roll.**_

_**And she's buying the stairway to heaven"**_

Stairway to Heaven

Nearly every seat was filled, and the noise was almost unbearable. A baby near the front of the plane was audible back as far as where the exit doors were, and that was half-way down the plane. Sam sighed, then made his way through the crowed jet to his seat. Making himself comfortable, Sam crossed his legs in front of him. He was glad that he had been able to snag a first class ticket at the last second. He was on his way back from Europe, and it had been an executive decision as to whether he would go now, or wait for the next flight which would leave two weeks after his.

Sam leaned back in his seat, focusing his thoughts on past memories. He had just recently broken up with his latest boyfriend Jason Friendly. They had been dating for over a year, but when he had caught Jay with another man, he lost it, and decided to drop him and go on this trip. He just wanted to be by himself, do for himself for a change. It was about time, after 5 years of shit from 7 different guys, he was determined to be on his own.

The captain came on the loud speaker, and finally people began to quite down. The baby still bawled in the front of the plane, but other than that it was pretty peaceful.

"Hello, this is your captain speaking. Just want to wish you a safe and happy flight. Now if this is your first ever flight, don't worry I am completely certified to be flying you all. I have over 5000 hours behind me. Of course those are all simulated hours, so..." The captain chuckled, and a few passengers laughed with him. Sam rolled his eyes. Great a pilot with a sense of humour.

"Any way, we are ready to take off now, the girls will tell you the safety procedure now. Thank you for flying British Airways, the best way to fly international." The captain clicked off, and the attendants stood up in front of the aisles and began the run down. Sam had seen this hundreds of times before, flying was a common thing for him. Ignoring them, letting it slip in one ear and out the other, and fell asleep, preparing for the 18 hour flight.

A shaking woke Samuel some time later. He opened one eye, and saw that the plane was rattling uneasily. No one seemed to be too disturbed by it, so he closed his eyes again. Readjusting his weight in the chair, he settled back to sleep. Out of nowhere, an explosive bang came from the port side of the plane. Sam sat up straight as the overhead compartment above him swung open and his carry-on hit the floor. Several people were now shouting and screaming. The buckle up sign was still on, and the flight attendants were strapped in behind him. The one to his left was crying.

Then, then lights in the cabin began to flicker, and the plane tilted violently to the left. Sam gripped the armrest, his knuckles white. The captain came back on, his voice tight. He tried to hide his fear, but it was evident that whatever was happening had gotten through his facade.

"This is your captain again. We are experiencing some heavy turbulence, which is normal this time of night." He coughed, and Sam imagined that he was sweating, and gripping the throttle as hard as he was the armrest. "We should be through it soon, so please stay calm, and bear with me." He apologized, then clicked off again. A few people calmed down, but the flight attendant that had been crying was even more upset.

The plane jerked again, then plunged downward. Everyone, including Sam screamed. The food cart rolled past him and crashed into the cockpit door. The door groaned, but showed no signs of breakage. The pilot struggled to force the plane to straighten out, but at this altitude, and with the strong wind, it was becoming impossible. The plane listed to the right, then back to the left. Sam's belt cut into his waist, making him grunt loudly.

The plane dove once again, this time dropping a good 15,000 feet. Sam's ears popped, and he could feel blood dripping from the left one. The oxygen masks deployed, and an alarm rang throughout the cabin. The pressure had dropped dramatically, and people were fighting to catch their breath. The baby in the front of the plane had stopped crying, and that sent chills down Sam's spine. He stole a glance out the window to his right, and saw the sky rising, the colours changing as it did. It went from clouded over, to a sudden midnight blue, then it was almost black. He caught a glimpse of the moon, full and laughing. He stared at it, praying it would not be the last time he would ever see it's brilliance.

As Sam watched the circular orb, the plane dropped to a dangerous 4,000 feet the nose almost touching the ground below. The pilot pulled on the stick, watched the ground rush at them, and closed his eyes at as the earth came inevitably closer with each falling second.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanx so much for the amazing reviews...I was surprised to get so many so soon. Here is the next chapter, by request!! I hope to not leave ya hanging for to long!!!

Disclaimer: Once again...The story is mine, the boys are Eric Kripke's and CW's...

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Sam shot up straight. Looking around, a blinding light made him shut his eyes. He lay back and stay that way a moment. He was unable to discern where he was, but he wished that someone would turn down the damned lights. As if on cue, the lights dimmed and he saw that he was in a hospital. A heart monitor was a attached to his chest, an IV needle jammed in his left arm and an oxygen tube down his nose. He stared at all this, and wanted to scream. What had happened? What was he doing here? He could not remember anything after getting to the airport almost 20 minutes before the plane took off. 

He had gotten a collect call from Jay, asking Sam to forgive him. He had told him to take a flying leap, and that he when he got home in 18 hours to have his shit out of the house. Then he hung up. The rest was foggy and hard to put together. His memory was like a goddamned Rubix Cube. No matter how you turned it, another piece just seemed to get in the way.

About five minutes later a doctor came in carrying a clip board. He read it over, then looked down at Sam. He smiled sweetly, then began. "Mr. Maxwell, how are we feeling this morning?" He pulled a chair up to the bed, then placed a gentle hand on Sam's wrist. Sam saw a wedding ring on the man's other hand. A family man.

"I would feel better if I knew why the hell I was in here." His voice was hoarse and crackly. He licked his lips, and felt a small cut at the base of them. It went down past where his tongue could reach. He lifted his right hand to it, and felt a 2 inch, jagged slice from his bottom lip to the tip of chin. The doctor, Dr. Davison, looked genuinely sorry for Sam's predicament.

"You came in two days ago after being in a plane crash." He never took his eyes off Sam. Sam furrowed his brows, trying to remember something, but it only made his head hurt. "You see, the plane you were on nose dived into D.C., just at the Maryland/Virginia border." This time he looked away, trying to hide his emotions. Sam could tell he was a man who showed them easily. He liked that.

"The thing is, Mr. Maxwell, is simply this..." He tried to focus on Sam, but Sam could see he was pained. "Out of 245 passengers, you were the only survivour." Dr. Davison cleared his throat, then stood. Sam followed him with his eyes.

"What? That's insane, I don't...What?" he could not remember the crash, let alone believe any of it. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he had fallen asleep at the airport reading that damned Dr. Phil book his mother had sent him. Yeah, that had to be it.

"Please Mr. Maxwell..." He began, but Sam put a hand in front of him, stopping him. "Enough with the mister crap, just call me Sam."

"Sam," Dr. Davison turned, setting the clipboard on the food tray beside the bed. "You have to understand that this is a strange case in and of itself." Turning back to Sam, Dr. Davison crossed his arms. "To be the lone survivour of a major crash such as this, that is something for the history books." Dr. Davison placed one hand on the table, and ran the other through his short brown hair. Sam saw how handsome he really was, too bad he was married.

Sam chuckled to himself. Just what he did not want to be remembered for. A Robert Ripley case. He could see it now: "24 year old man has brush with death. Walks away from plane crash unscathed. Sole survivour!" Then one of those goofy cartoon sketches off him walking away from it. Yet that was not the truth, was it? Here he was in the hospital, hooked top a bunch of monitors cut and bruised from head to toe.

"The good thing about all this," The doctor continued. Sam cocked an eyebrow. What the hell was so good about all this? It was almost laughable.

"You can leave at anytime, you were only here this long for observation." He looked at the metal board once again. "There was no surgery of any kind, only Demerol for pain, which is why you were sleeping the last two days. You did have a mild concussion, which is why your memory is spotty, but after a while that should all come back."

Sam nodded, not really listening. It was all more than he could handle. He just wanted to leave, to go home and put this all behind him.

"So you are saying that I can go, like right now?"

The doctor nodded. "I just have to check you over one last time, then you are free to leave."

He reached for a blood pressure cuff and velcroed it around Sam's left biceps. He pumped it up, and then placed his stethoscope just at the edge of it. He waited for it to fully expand, then he released a bit of the air, watching the gauge drop slowly.

"Okay, your blood pressure is 100 over 85, which is very healthy. Now to take your temperature." He slipped the cuff off, then picked a digital thermometer off the small table. Placing it in Sam's mouth, he pressed a button. Within seconds a tiny alarm sounded, and he removed it.

"98.7. Also normal." he wrote this info down then took a pen light from his coat pocket. "Okay, watch the light with your eyes but don't move your head." He instructed. Sam did as he was told. After a few swipes with the light, Dr. Davison nodded.

"You are amazingly healthy. Aside from the cut on your lip, and a few bumps and bruises, you are in perfect shape. It is truly a miracle you survived at all." Dr. Davison scratched his head, baffled at the sight before him. "Maybe you just have an angel looking out for you." He smiled, then signed his chart.

Sam smiled back. He had never put much stock into faith and angels and all that gobbledy-gook before, but maybe Dr. Davison was right. That fact that he was here, lying safe and unharmed, while everyone else on that flight wasn't, well there must be a reason.

"I'll send one of the nurses in with some papers for you to sign, then you can go ahead and get dressed." he began to walk out, then turned back. "Oh, by the way. Things like this happen for a reason. I don't believe in coincidences, so..." He shrugged his shoulders, then left the room.

XXXXX

About twenty minutes later a young nurse came in and unhooked him from all the tubes and wires. She smiled at him the entire time, and he faked a smile back, not wanting to tell her that it was him, not her. After signing his discharge papers, he headed for the bathroom to clean up.

Staring in the mirror at a face he had not seen in the last two days, he was shocked by how clean and free of damage it was. Save for that mark on his chin and a small bruise on his left cheek, there was nothing else to indicate he had been in a harrowing accident. Not until he undressed from he hospital garb, did he notice all the bruises on his chest and back. Some were in different shades of purple and blue, other were green and yellow. He counted at least ten on his chest, and turning at least another fifteen on his back.

Sam leaned on the sink, his eyes closed. He suddenly felt guilty. Angels be damned, something was wrong here, terribly wrong, and he wanted to know why he, a 24 year old lawyer was alive. As he looked back up into the mirror, the florescent light above it flickered, once, twice, then engulfed the room in extremely bright light. Sam covered his eyes, then hit the floor as his body was wracked with pain. He felt nauseous, lightheaded and dizzy. His hands felt for something, anything, but everything around him was gone and was replaced by emptiness and blinding white light. Then as soon as it had come, it was gone.

Sam fell backwards, hitting the floor door that had disappeared moments before, and his stomach lurched. He clutched himself tightly, terrified of what had just happened. Dr. Davison had been right. This had happened for a reason, but what? He stood, perhaps too fast, because the nausea over took him, and he vomited all over the tile floor.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Couldn't keep you waiting any longer...Glad you liking the story this far, and hope that is will not be too far fetched or convoluted...As I said before it is major AU, so things are going to be a little off the beaten path, and in the next couple chapter's there will be slash, so if ya don't like that, stop now!! Just a fair warning ;)

Disclaimer: Yeah yeah yeah, we get it. CW owns what I don't!

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One Month Later

Dean Winchester looked in the mirror one last time, running a hand through his close cropped hair. He liked looking good, and today was important. This job interview could mean the rest of his life if it paid off, and he wanted to make sure nothing went wrong, starting with his looks. He stood there a second, and a memory came back to him.

It had been the day he had come out to his parents. He had met the new boy in school, and they had gone to the park for a game of touch football. The boy, Danny Forelli, was extremely hot as he thought back to it. As the game got heated and more intense, Dean made a move to dive for the ball, and landed on Danny. He lay on him for a good minute, and neither of them made the first move. Then, out of the blue, Danny kissed Dean, full on the lips. It felt weird at first, strange to a 16 year old boy, but then he kissed him back, their tongues entangling right their in the park. The only thing that stopped them from going any further, was a young mother whispering to her daughter that they were the work of the devil.

He had been embarrassed by that, but even more so when he ran home to tell his strict parents that their only son was gay. They took it as well as could be expected. His mother cried and his father hit him across the face. Yep, they took it amazingly well. He never saw Danny again. His parents moved after that little fiasco, swearing that Danny had been a bad influence. That year, though, he met a great guy, Aiden Michaels. They fell in love and he had his first sexual encounter with a man. They broke up after a few months, yet they were still friends, even now. Over the years, there had been different guys, but none of them could satisfy his parents. Finally at age 25, he severed all ties with them, and moved to California. That was three years ago.

Now he was hoping to get a job at a prestigious law firm as a paralegal. He smiled at himself, then left his small apartment grabbing his keys and coat on the way out.

XXXXX

"Now this isn't going to hinder my getting the job or anything is it??" Dean was sitting across from the interviewer. The man, Malcolm Jones, chewed on his pencil absent mindedly. His pale blue eyes scanned Dean's resume. Letting the pencil slip from his teeth, he stared up at Dean, the corner of his mouth rising.

"No Mr. Winchester. Half our staff here is gay, in fact," He dropped the pencil then crossed his hands under his chin. There was a glint in his eye. "So am I." Dean started to say something, when the door burst open.

"I am sorry Mr. Jones, but I need to speak with you." Sam Maxwell enveloped the doorway, a briefcase in one hand and a manilla folder in the other. He glanced at Dean, then back at his boss. Malcolm groaned, knowing that he had just been robbed of the opportunity of getting in the new kid's pants.

"What is it this time Sam?" He rubbed at his forehead. Sam was a great asset to the firm, had only been there for six months, but sometimes he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed.

Sam gestured toward the hallway, and Malcolm huffed.

"You, by the way are hired." He held a hand out to Dean. Dean took it, a huge smile on his face. Malcolm leaned across the table to whisper in his ear.

"I think that we could become good friends, you and I." He gripped Dean's hand, then followed after Sam. Dean cocked and eyebrow, not sure what the hell he had just witnessed.

XXXXX

In the hallway, Sam was fidgeting with the manila envelope, opening and closing the metal clasp. He looked at Malcolm uneasily, then down at the floor. He had loved working at he firm, but in the last month, things had been so different, so strange that he just could not put a finger on it. He felt weird and out of place no matter where he went.

"Ok kid, this better be important." Malcolm loosened the knot in his tie, then leaned against the wall next to Sammy. He was feeling the start of a headache, and he really needed a martini. Hell a shot of tequila would even be good right about now.

"Here...just read this." Sam thrust the envelope into Malcolm's hands, knowing what was about to happen when he did. Malcolm stood up straight, then opened the envelope. Inside was a single paper and at the bottom was Sam's signature.

"Wait a minute..." He looked up at Sam, then back at the paper. "It this my imagination or is this your letter of resignation?"

Sam nodded, suddenly ashamed of himself. He did not want to say anything. The letter said it all. He had been happy there, but he felt that the road had come to and end for him, and his options exhausted. He apologized to Malcolm, knowing that he had pulled a few strings to get someone his age a job like this in the first place.

As Sam turned away from such an amazing job, all the lights around him shorted out at the same time. He was now surrounded by darkness. The pain from before hit Sam like a bus, knocking him backwards on to his back. He hit the floor with a sick thud, his head smacking the ground. He could feel a sharp pain in his chest like that after a lightening strike. Above him, a light emerged, small at first, then encircling him like a strange mist. That was the last thing he remembered.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: The reviews are coming in like crazy. I am severely grateful, you have no idea!!! You wanted it...so here it is!!! Chapter 4...Enjoy...

Disclaimer: I own what I own, and what I don't, I don't!! It's that simple!

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"Hey woah, easy there man!" Dean set the terry cloth washcloth aside as Sam shot awake. He was dizzy, and almost toppled to the floor. Dean grabbed his arms and held him in place. Their eyes met, and Sam felt a strange sense of Deja Vu, but he shook it off. 

"Wh...where am I? And why the hell does this keep happening to me?" He shook Dean's hands off and struggled to stand. Dean stood beside him the entire time, just for safety's sake. Sam got a grip on his surroundings, and saw that he was in the firm's nursing station. He had been lying on a small cot. Looking back at Dean, that sense of Deja Vu came back, but why?

"I know I saw you in Malcolm's office, but have we met before?" He scanned Dean's face, trying to remember anything. Yet nothing was coming to him.

"Nope, sorry." He smiled. "I think I'd remember a face like yours." This made Sam smile, something he hadn't done since the accident. It felt good to. He sat back down, slowly, and felt the back of his head. There was a large welt dead center. When he touched it, he sucked air through his teeth.

"Yeah, you took a nasty spill there." Dean touched Sam's head gingerly. "It shouldn't take too long for the swelling to go down." He handed Sam the washcloth. It was still warm. Sam thanked him and placed it on his head. Dean smiled at Sam sweetly. He noticed how good looking this man was, from his green eyes to the dimple in his cheek, all the way to his massive height. Dean was enraptured by Sammy, and when Sam looked back into Dean's hazel eyes, he had fallen, hard.

Dean let his hand slip from Sam's head and let is fall to his shoulder. He gripped it gently, his thumb rubbing Sam's dress shirt. Sam never took his eyes off Dean. There was something about him, something he felt that he needed. They did not even know each other, but it was as if they had been friends forever. Before Sam could blink, Dean leaned forward and kissed Sam on the lips. Sam closed his eyes, placing a hand on Dean's cheek.

After what seemed like an hour, Dean pulled back, breathing hard. He had kissed quite a few men in his lifetime, but none had made his heart skip a beat like Sam. The look on Sam's face said it all to him. His eyes were half-closed, a small smile on his thin lips. Dean kissed him again, harder this time, and Sam's tongue entered his lips, dancing with his. Sam's hands were now wrapped in Dean's hair, tickling at his scalp. Dean pushed his lips as hard as they could on Sammy's, and pushed him back onto the cot.

"Wa...wait." Sam dropped his hands from Dean's hair gasping for air. Dean leaned back, looking confused.

"What is it? You looked very cooperative just then..." He smiled slyly then began to kiss Sam's neck. Sam moaned, but pushed Dean away.

"We don't even know each other." He stared into Dean's eyes. He saw more than just lust in those glass orbs. That was something he had never seen before, and he liked it.

"I'm Dean Winchester, and you are Sam...Sam...um, what is your last name?" he chuckled.

Sam shook his head. "Maxwell, I'd say nice to meet you, but I think it's a little late for that." he wrapped an arm around Dean's neck, and pulled him toward him. "Now where were we?"


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: You asked for it...here it is!! once again I warn any no-slash lovers, avoid this chapter as all costs!! But of course, you would not be here if you did not like slash, so, read on!! Also, this is my first ever sex scene, so let me know how I did...be gentle, hehe. You may think it is quick for the boys to be sleeping together, but once the next few chapters come out, you will realise why things are the way they are...

Disclaimer: Same shit, different day...

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An hour later the boys found themselves back at Dean's apartment. It was a small, four room set-up with only a kitchen, living room, bedroom and a bathroom. A love seat sat in front of the bay window as they walked into the living room. A 27 inch television was perched upon a two drawer dresser in front of it. There was no coffee table, but two small end tables placed side by side to create the illusion of one. A cat ran past Sam's legs almost knocking him down.

"Oh, ignore Rascal, he just does that when he meets new people. He'll settle down after a while." Dean smiled, then took Sam's suit jacket and hung it on a teetering coat rack by the front door. It almost fell on Dean, but he caught it with one hand, then leaned it back against the wall.

"I had to fire the maid, we just couldn't see eye to eye anymore." They both laughed. Dean led Sam into the living room and motioned for him to have a seat.

"You want a beer or something?" Dean offered. Sam shook his head. Dean moved around the Formica counter top and opened the grungy icebox. He got himself a beer, then headed back to Sam. He sat next to him, setting the beer on the 'coffee table.'

"You've got a quaint little place here." Same said, surveying the tiny loft. Dean scoffed.

"Yeah if you like to pay too much for too little shit." he leaned back against the couch and linked his hands behind his head. He hated bringing guys here, but it was almost a test. If they did not run off after seeing where he lived, then they were a keeper. So far, he was 0-10. Dean guessed that in this day and age, people cared more for aesthetics then the real thing.

"Hey, who cares what your apartment looks like?" Sam leaned on one arm, while the other took up residence on Dean's left knee. "It's the person who resides in it, isn't it?" His hand traveled up a ways, stopping just at Dean's thigh. Dean swallowed hard, and nodded.

Sam gripped Dean's thigh hard, then leaned in to kiss Dean. Their lips met, and Sam could feel Dean's hands on his back grabbing at his shirt. Sam's other hand traveled down Dean's chest and stopped just at the top of his slacks. Pulling Dean's shirt out of them, he slipped his hand up, rubbing his stomach seductively. Dean pushed closer to Sam, their mouths almost one set.

Sam removed his left hand from Dean's thigh and began to unzip Dean's pants. He could hear Dean moan, then felt Dean's fingers dig into his back. Dean wanted this, had for so long, and so did Sam.

Sam pulled back, breaking the kiss. Dean was once again confused.

"Wh, why, why did you..." He was breathing so hard he could barely speak. Sam stood, ignoring Dean's words. He undid the buttons on his shirt, then tossed it to the floor. His chest was glistening with sweat, making Dean lick his lips. He lifted his hands to touch Sam, but Sam pushed them down.

"Ah ah ah. Not yet." Sam waved a finger at Dean, an eyebrow raised. Dean was not used to being the submissive, but at this point, he no longer cared. Sam was turning him on too much for him to even give a shit.

Sam spread his legs, then straddled Dean, his knees on either side of Dean's. He was inches from Dean's face, and Dean could smell a mixture of sweat, cologne, and sex. He wanted Sam, even though his barely knew him. He wanted him bad.

Sam grabbed both of Dean's arms and held them back against the couch. He lowered his head and kissed Dean's neck slowly, deliberately. Dean arched his back, gasping as Sam licked just below his ear. Then Sam dropped to Dean's shirt and bit off the first button, spitting it across the room. Dean bit his bottom lip. This man knew just how to work him over, and good.

As Sam bit off the last button, he let Dean's arms go, then licked all the way up Dean's chest, making his heart skip a beat. He kissed Dean once more, then moved from his lap. Dropping to the floor, he pulled Dean's legs apart, fast and hard. Dean gripped the couch in anticipation.

Sam slowly unzipped Dean's pants, revealing Dean's rock hard cock. Teasing it with his tongue, he watched Dean squint his eyes tight, still grabbing at the couch. Finally finished playing, Sam slipped the throbbing member in his mouth, sucking slow at first, then harder.

Dean leaned back so far that he almost disappeared into the couch. He screamed Sam's name then shouted an expletive. He could feel Sam's tongue licking and rubbing on his dick, and it made his whole body tingle. His breath was shallow and fast, and he knew that at any moment he was about to lose his mind, along with everything else.

Sam suddenly stopped, then looked up at Dean.

"I hate to leave you hanging, but do you have any lube?" He smiled sensually, making Dean want to punch him. He was still breathing hard, his head swimming and a feeling of euphoria beginning to take over. How dare he!

Dean kept his cool, knowing that what was coming next could possible be better than what he had just experienced.

"Yes, in the bathroom medicine cabinet." He pointed to a door down the hall. "Just hurry up damn it." Sam nodded, and ran into the bathroom. Dean banged his head against the back of the couch, praying this feeling would stay. Within a few seconds, Sam rushed back out, the bottle in his hand, the smile still on his gorgeous face. Damn it God, why'd you have to send me a hot one?

Dean grabbed the bottle from Sam, leaving him open mouthed.

"You screwed with me..." He smiled, then laughed. He grabbed for Sammy, then shoved him into his bedroom. Sam fought at first, then gave in. He brought this on himself.

Dean pushed Sam down on the bed, yanking his pants off. He looked at Sam, then straddled him. He kissed him, tongue and all, and Sam kissed him back. Their hands found each other and their fingers interlocked. Dean pulled his head away and licked his lips.

"Are you ready?" Dean asked Sam. He did not have to be asked twice. Sam arched up into Dean, and Dean nodded. Picking the bottle off the bed, he opened it. He kissed Sam once more, then traced a finger down his chest. As he made it to Sam's pelvis, he squeezed some of the lube on his fingers. Sam licked his lips, his back still arched.

Dean slipped first one finger, then the next one into Sam's orifice. Sam shuddered, his nerves on the edge of exploding. Dean kissed Sam's stomach, then rubbed a small amount of the lube on his cock. Removing his fingers, Sam's body jumped slightly, then when he slipped himself inside, Sam grabbed at Dean's shoulders, his fingers leaving white marks in the flesh.

Dean moved slow, not sure how Sam would respond at first, but when Sam told him: "Harder Dean, harder," then he knew where he stood. He did as he was told, Sam's cries for more in his ear making him so excited he was afraid he would come too soon.

Minutes later, after hundreds of expletives and Deanfuckmeharderohyes or SammyIwantyou, Dean could feel everything coming to the surface. He moaned loudly as he felt his semen flow into Sammy. A second later Sammy's own seed followed suit.

Dean jerked one last time, then lowered himself onto Sam. They were both covered in sweat and sex. Sam could hear Dean's heartbeat, and it was in beat with his. He had finally found someone he could be close with, someone he could love. He ran a hand through Dean's hair and kissed the top of his head. Dean looked up at him.

"I love you Sammy, until the day I die."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: The next chapter by popular demand...I hear from a little birdy that this story is, and I quote: "quite intense." I am pleased to unnerve y'all. Yet, I think from here on out, it gets even more intense. Just hang on...It gets a bit bumpy...

Disclaimer: Whatever!

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"Get your hands out of those cookies mister, or you are gonna regret it." Sam yelled over his shoulder at Dean. Dean cocked his head, wondering how Sam kept doing that. He let the chocolate chip cookie fall back on the plate, then wiped his hands on his pants.

"And use a napkin for god's sake!" He turned and handed Dean a paper towel. Dean groaned. He loved the guy, but he was so damned psychic.

It had been six months since their amazing sexual encounter, and it had not ended there. Only a week ago, Dean had asked for Sam's hand in marriage, and since then he was higher than a kite. They had moved in together three months ago in a nice 2 bedroom apartment about three blocks from Dean's old place. The rent was a little more than Dean had previously paid, about $150 more, but since he had been working at Sam's old firm, money was great.

Dean used the towel, then tossed it into the trash can. He stepped beside Sam and kissed him on the neck. Sam breathed in, then placed a hand on Dean's cheek. Turning around, he smiled.

"Are you trying to seduce me Mr. Winchester?"

Dean chuckled. "Any way that I can Mr. Maxwell." he kissed Sam hard on the lips, his hand on his waist. Sam pushed Dean back, chuckling.

"Don't you have somewhere to be today?" He pointed at the clock. Dean saw that it was nearly eight o'clock. He would be late for work if he didn't make a move on. He kissed Sam once more, then slapped him on the ass.

"I'll see you later sexy." He smiled, then left the kitchen. Sam shook his head.

XXXXX

Sam sat down to watch TV an hour later. As he flipped through various talk shows, they all began to blur together. The colours started to run into each other, and he heard a buzzing sound. It sounded like a beehive in his head. He shook his head, but the sound got louder and louder. Turning the TV off did not kill the sound. He stood to look out the window, thinking it might be outside, but as he did, the room began to spin, the ceiling dipping to the left making him feel as if he were in a funhouse.

Then he saw a flash of something, like an image that was cut from a movie then spliced back in poorly. He could barely see anything, it was all surrounded by fog and mist, but what he could see was enough to stop his heart.

He could see himself in his seat on the plane, the plane listing to the left. The look on his face was that of utter terror. Then another flash. The plane was within inches of the ground, and everyone was unconscious. Oxygen masks were hanging all across the cabin, bags and such had fallen from the over heads. As Sam tried to see more, a searing white light illuminated the cabin, burning Sam's eyes. He covered them, then felt the same pain from all the times before. His chest hurt, as if something was lying on it, crushing it. He could barely breath, then he hit the floor gagging and spitting. The vision left him, but the pain lingered.

XXXXX

All the lights were out, the TV off when Dean came home the evening. He nearly tripped over Rascal as he stepped into the living room. Tossing his coat on what he assumed was his chair, he stumbled to the couch and flicked on the lamp. Sam sprang up and turned it back off.

"Touch that again and you'll be jerking off as a south paw." Sam's voice sounded tight and agitated. Dean waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, then he sat beside Sam.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Is there an energy crisis I know nothing about?" He smiled, but Sam could not see it. He was not even looking at Dean.

"It's, it's just that, something happened to me today, and I can't..." He trailed off. Dean had never seen or heard Sam so upset. He put an arm around Sam, and could feel him shaking. Whatever had happened had surely put the fear into him.

"Babe, talk to me. Tell me what happened." he leaned as close as he could to Sammy. His left hand touched Sam's face gently. Sam grabbed it and kissed it, then gripped it tightly. He began to calm a bit.

"I saw something, in my head, that I just can't let go." He turned to face Dean, and even in the darkness he could see fear in Sam's eyes. He did not like it at all.

"I saw myself on the plane, just before it crashed. I think something went wrong, something that I just can't remember." he rubbed his temples, trying to think, but it just made everything even more painful. Dean pulled Sam to him, whether he wanted him to or not, and held him.

"Hey, don't worry about all that. You are alive, and with me. Nothing, not even a bad memory can hurt you now." He kissed Sam's forehead, then smiled.

"So um, you think we can turn on some lights? It's like the inside of Aladdin's lamp in here." They both chuckled, but Sam was still not sure if anything was really safe. Not today, not ever.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Okay...only a couple more chapters, and all will be revealed!! I hope that the suspense is not killing you _too_ bad! Also, hoping the ending of this chapter doesn't make you want to kill me...but as I said, all will be revealed!!

Disclaimer: Do I gotta?

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The next few months were strange and eventful. Sam's visions came at least twice a month, waking him at night, causing him blinding headaches and pain so excruciating that he had to see Dr. Davison again. After MRI's and CAT scans, the doctor told him that there was nothing at all wrong with him, but he prescribed him Vicodin for the pain. He was to take one pill every four hours, but it never seemed to help. 

When July came back around, it had been a year since the accident, and almost a year since Sam and Dean had been dating. They decided to get married at a small church not far from where they lived.

Dean stood at the front of the aisle dressed in a handsome tuxedo, nervous as hell. His friend Aiden stood at his side. His sister would have been with the bride's maids, but she had died the year before. They had been very close, and it bothered him that she was gone.

As he stood there, He saw Sam emerge from the sitting area at the end of the aisle. His hair was slicked back, and his own tuxedo pressed and looking spiff. Dean caught his eyes, and the smiled at each other. Dean felt like crying.

Soft music started, and Sam walked up the aisle. Dean stepped down as Sam reached his side, and they turned to each other. Sam took Dean's hands, then as their eyes connected, the pain in his head came back tenfold. He doubled over in pain, groaning loudly. Dean said Sam's name, but it sounded far off, like from the back of a cave. He hit the carpeted floor, grabbing for Dean. Dean held his hand, not wanting to let go.

A vision passed in front of Sam's eyes. The plane was crashing to the earth like before, this time all the passengers were wide awake, screaming and yelling. Sam saw himself. He felt a blast of severe pain, and his insides were struggling to work, to keep up. His heart beat faster, his lungs fought to take in air. Dean could see all this, and he was terrified, yet could do nothing about it.

Sam gasped, trying to breath. He could taste blood in his throat, and spit out onto the white carpet, turning it pink. Dean began to cry, knowing Sam was in trouble now. He yelled at Aiden to call 911.

Sam rolled over on his back, his head pounding so loud he was afraid it would explode. That same burning light enveloped him, and he felt his heart slow. More blood flowed from his mouth, causing a puddle to form next to him. Dean was screaming beside him, but his voice was barely above a whisper.

Just before his heart gave out, Sam felt a warm sensation overtake his body. It felt nice, and the pain was slowly subsiding. Through the light, he caught a glimpse of Dean, tears pouring down his face. With all the strength he had left, Sam lifted his hand and touched Dean's face, then he was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Yes, here it is, just one, more fun filled chapter to go. I hope you are still enjoying it...Things will come to head in the final chapter...Hope it was worth the wait!!

Disclaimer: Blah Blah Blah!!!

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Dean sat on the edge of his bed, his funeral attire hanging loosely from his thin frame. His eyes were red rimmed and puffy. He had not stopped crying since Sam had died a week before. There had been an autopsy, and it found that Sam's ribs were crushed, and had punctured his lungs and heart, which had caused the blood loss. They pathologist was baffled as to how a healthy 24 year old, who was standing one minute, could be so mangled the next.

At the funeral, Sam's family all huddled around Dean, telling them how sorry they were, that they would have loved to have had him in their family. Sam's father hugged him, and called him son. They exchanged numbers, and he told Dean to call when he felt better. He told him that Dean would always have a family with them. That touched him more than he could express.

Now, sitting on the bed, Dean could barely focus. He was in a fog, felt so damned numb. The love of his life was gone, had died of the oddest circumstances. Looking down at the palm of his hands, Sam's engagement ring glared back at him like a sick joke. He looked at it a moment longer, then rushed to the bathroom, instantly sick to his stomach.

Stepping out of the bathroom, fresh tears in his already tear stained eyes, he leaned against the doorjamb. He stared at the empty room and saw a picture of him and Sam on the night stand by the bed. He had never been as happy as he was until he had met Sammy. From the moment he laid his eyes on him, and even Sam had said, there was sense of Deja vu, as if they had known each other forever. It had gotten stronger as the time had passed, but he could never place it. Dean finally figured it was just fate, that they were meant to be, like soul mates or something like that.

Dean walked over to the night stand and picked up the picture. It had been taken when they got engaged. They had gone to Hawaii, and Dean had rented a beautiful suite for the weekend. They had gone swimming off the amazing black sand beaches, and got to dance with the hula girls. Dean felt silly doing it, but Sammy talked him into it. In the end, he had a lot of fun.

Then, on their last night there, they ate at a luau. They cuddled by the fire pit, watching the pig turn on the spit. As the night wore on, and the clear sky broke above them, Dean tapped Sam on the shoulder and asked if he wanted to go for a short walk. They walked down the beach, the water lapping at their bare feet. They held hands, staring at the stars. It was magical. Then, Dean stopped right at a small cave, where the water lapped in and out, and when the moon hit it just right, it lit up as if there were thousands of diamonds inside.

Dean took Sammy's hands in his, a tear falling from his eye. Sam wiped it away, then kissed him slowly. The scene was perfect, and Dean wanted to say just the right thing.

"Sammy, I love you," He had begun. He ran one hand through Sam's hair, while his other was still in Sam's. Sam smiled, and he kissed Dean's wrist.

"From the day that we met, I have felt this strong connection between us. I think we were meant to be together, and that you were sent to me for a reason. You were sent here to make me happy, to love me when I couldn't love myself. So Sammy, I want to give back all that you've given me."

Sam was the one to cry now. He wiped at his eyes, then watched as Dean dropped to one knee. He pulled a small box from his back pocket, opened it and took Sam's left hand.

"Sam, will you make me the happiest man ever?" He placed the ring on Sam's finger. Sam could barely breath, so many emotions colliding at once. Dean stood, kissing Sam gently on the cheek.

"I...yes Dean, forever and until the day I die." Sam grabbed Dean in his arms and they held each other for a long time after that.

Dean watched a tear fall onto the picture, marring his reflection. The memory was more than he could handle. He swung around and threw the picture at the bathroom door, causing the glass to shatter all over the carpet. Dean fell back onto the bed, wracked with sobs. Sometime later, he fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Here si the last chapter...As I said I hope it was worth the wait. I am thankful for all the reviews. I wasn't sure it would go over as well as it did. Thanx again.

Disclaimer: Much thanx to CW and Eric Kripke for giving us these wonderful characters to manipulate at our will, hehe.

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Awoken by a strange sound, Dean shot up, trying to adjust his eyes. Looking at the clock, it was after eight o'clock. Nearly three hours had past. As he wiped at his eyes, he heard the sound again, this time it was louder. It reminded him of a tape-recorder playing a blank tape on full blast. A strange hum that was emanating just outside his bedroom door. Turning on the bedside lamp, he saw something moving out there, a shadow under the door. Dean slowly opened the table's drawer, and slipped out his automatic. Quietly cocking it, he edged his way toward the door, careful not to make any noise. 

Dean touched the door knob, but pulled back when a small static charge leapt from the metal to his hand. As he massaged his fingertips, the doorknob rattled, then the door began to shake. Dean stood fast, gun pointed at the wooden barrier.

The rattling intensified, the door banging against the trim, almost to a rhythm. Dean backed up an inch, but still had the gun trained on the door. Then the shaking stopped, the humming ceased. Everything was quiet. Dean waited a couple minutes before dropping his gun. Then he stepped closer toward the door, when it exploded off it's hinges, pieces flying everywhere. Dean ducked just as a large shard almost took off the top of his head.

Once the dust settled, Dean looked into the doorway, and what he saw almost stopped his heart. There, looking as healthy as the first day he had seen him, was Sam Maxwell. The shock was too much for Dean to handle, causing him to collapse.

XXXXX

"Sammy!" Dean sat up, sweat pouring down his face. The door was all in one piece, not a mark on it. He felt sick to his stomach, had prayed it had been real, but knew that there was no way that Sam could come back, not in this world. He dropped his head, hands instinctively surrounding it like a safety net. If he couldn't not see the outside world, it couldn't see him.

"I'm here Dean." Sam sat down lightly on the bed. Dean's heart skipped a beat. That was a voice he had longed to here the last seven nights, and now he had, or had he? Lifting his head, there was Sam, as if the last week had never happened.

Dean leapt from the bed, scared he was going bonkers. He pointed at Sam, mumbling something about ghosts and spirits. Sam smiled and then touched Dean's face. Dean's whole body turned to jelly, and he almost fell to the floor. Sam grabbed Dean's arms before he did, and hugged him hard. Dean held Sam tight. He was crying all over again.

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked once he was able to speak. He never let go of Sam, so afraid of losing him again. "You're dead, aren't you?"

Sam nodded. "Yes, yes I am." He turned from Dean, pulling away from his grasp. Dean tried to touch his shoulder, but he shrugged him off. He seemed upset about something. Even in death.

"You see Dean, I know now why I was having those visions. I know what happened that day." Sam sat back down on the bed, and gestured for Dean to sit with him.

"That day, something awful happened, something my mind just would not let me see, until much later." Sam took Dean's hand in his, and Dean could feel how warm he was. He missed that, and he wanted to stop his crazy talk, just to have one last moment with him. Just to be close to the man he loved.

"That crash was devastating. So much death and violence, and I was surprised I lived to tell about it." He squeezed Dean's hand.

"Well, the thing is, I didn't." He looked at Dean who was staring at him like he had just fallen of his rocker.

"Wait, no you were with me for almost a year. I touched you, we made love. I think I would know a dead man if I felt one." Dean dropped Sam's hand in disgust, unable to believe what he was telling him. It was unfathomable that this man next to him had been dead, even before they met.

"It's true Dean, but there's more..." Sam trained his eyes on Dean's, and Dean could see that he was not lying. It tore at him, and he did not like it. He was sick all over again.

"What do you mean 'there's more?' What else could there possibly be?"

Sam took Dean's hands in his. He closed his eyes, and Dean could feel a sharp pain resonate throughout his body. He tried to pull away from Sam, but it was futile. The pain intensified, causing him to close his own eyes. A moment later a light flashed in front of his eyes, then a very vivid vision.

He was walking down the aisle of a plane, moving around a stewardess, making it to his seat. As he sat down, he saw a young brunette sitting next to his seat. As she looked at him, he felt his heart stop. It was his sister, smiling and laughing. She was asking him why he was so late, and he was telling her there was a hold up at the gate, some guy he had to check out. She said that was typical, and then he sat down.

A few minutes later the man he had checked out walked on the plane. Dean was laughing with his sister, but when the man looked at him, they both smiled. Dean caught a glimpse of the man, and it was Sam. Jesus Christ! Dean wanted to vomit, wanted to scream, wanted to...to what???

Then another flash, this one not so happy. The plane was banging and listing to the left. Objects were crashing to the floor, the oxygen masks were falling and people were screaming. As they came closer and closer to the ground below, Deans head felt as if it would explode. This couldn't be real, he wasn't on this flight, was he?

Then the sound of shattering metal and glass. The cockpit slammed into a slew of trees, then the tail section broke off, lights flickering, wires zapping and sparking. Dean was flung forward, his sister crushed by the seats in front of her. He could feel blood seeping from his chest, but when he heard calling from the rear of the front section, he pulled himself to the voice.

There was Sam. His belt had held him in his seat, but it had snapped his ribs, and blood was flowing from his mouth. He was coughing and gagging, trying to free himself. Dean pulled at the belt, but every time he did, it just cut into Sam even more, causing more blood to spill from his lips. Finally Dean had to force himself to find his carry-on and get his knife and then cut Sam out.

Sam fell into Dean's lap, coughing once again. They stared into each other's eyes, and even though they were dying, Dean had fallen for this guy. It was just something is Sam's eyes, something sweet and innocent, yet sexy and dangerous at the same time. He had wished they could have gotten to know each other. As Sam's life disappeared before his eyes, Dean could feel his own beginning to dissipate. He was spitting up blood left and right, then as he stared at Sam's eyes one last time, they died together, holding each other's hands.

Sam let go of Dean's hands, and he fell to the floor, the vision still sharp in his mind. He was gasping, not sure what he had just seen.

"I died to, with you in my arms. That's why..." He looked up at Sam shaking his head. God had given him, them, a second chance. He had been grateful for every second, every minute, every hour. If he could do it again, he wouldn't change a thing. He had loved Sam with every fiber of his being, and no matter the outcome, it was love that would last all eternity.

Sam stood and took Dean's hand in his. Dean followed suit. He saw that Sam felt the same, and it warmed his heart. Sam leaned in and kissed Dean tenderly on the lips. As they did, the room lit up with bright light, warm and comforting. Sam pulled back and smiled.

"It's time." He gestured to where the light was the brightest. Dean nodded, and hooked his hand into Sam's. Together they walked the stairway to heaven, to be forever as one in eternity.


End file.
